


Dancing in the Rain

by Naatta



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Daft Punk Love, Dancing, Dancing in the Rain, Dreams, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naatta/pseuds/Naatta
Summary: Kylo finds himself inside Rey's dream, simple fluff ensues.





	Dancing in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about making this a sequel to "Battle of the Mental Images" but this didn't quite fit the comedy theme. Instead, just enjoy some simple force bond love.

He came to her in the night. One minute he was falling asleep in his own bed, the next he was waking up in hers, the feel of her soft breath blowing on his face. She looked perfect like that: snuggled up under a light blanket, face completely relaxed and innocent. 

Absolutely perfect.

Tucking a stray hair behind her ear he stroked her cheek, memorizing her face with his fingers. She smiled just a hint at the touch which caused him to react in kind. A man could fall in love with that face.

But he was not a man. He was a monster.

The smile faded from his lips as he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her into his chest. To his fleeting surprise she nuzzled up against him, her dark auburn hair tickling his jaw. Closing his eyes he let himself fall into her dream. The sound of the thrum of rain slowly filled his ears, her silhouette clear where she stood just under the edge of the Falcon next to the lowered entrance ramp, watching the deluge fall. Off in the distance you could even hear the ocean waves crashing as they came up over black rocks. A simple dream, but a happy one.

He moved up behind her, noting she still seemed unaware of his presence. Despite being hidden under the ship the tips of her boots and parts of her clothes were damp from all the moisture and spray; even he was starting to get wet. Reaching out his bare fingers just brushed over the edge of her sleeve when she stepped away, out into the rain with arms out to feel each splashing drop hit her palms. He could feel the amused pleasure as she leaned her head back, rain running little trails over the valleys of her face. She smiled, doing a little twirl, her eyes closed. Then another. A soft, low hum, slipping past her lips.

She was dancing. It was awkward, simple, off tempo, and more in her heart than in her feet but it was a dance of joy. Like the dance of a child.

And it was beautiful.

After a few bars he recognized the tune she was singing, an old lullaby his mother had sung to him as a child; a very common tune. He leaned against the ramp, watching her jump in puddles and twirl, effectively getting herself soaking wet. She giggled, mumbling off-site lyrics to herself. And then she slipped.

She would have fallen over the edge and into the sea below if he hadn’t caught her, his grip steady, but tight on her wrist. His presence alone surprised her but as she looked at, let him pull her into his arms and looked back at what would have happened if he hadn’t interfered her hesitation stilled. 

They stood like that, holding each other in the rain, drenched in the downpour, and stared at each other.

“Leave it to a scavenger from the desert to dream about rain.” He chided, pushing wet strands of hair out of her face.

She looked up at the overcast sky, a solid wall of grey clouds hanging low over them. “What do you dream about then?” She asked absently.

“You.” He answered, blinking at her through the falling rain. She looked at him, a flash of surprise floating past her eyes followed by a flush of embarrassment. His hands shifted around her waist, holding firm on either hip; he slipped his right hand up her length to lace his fingers in between her own and began to move, a simple and slow sway at first to establish a rhythm, then adding steps: 1, 2, 3…1, 2, 3…

As they moved the scenery changed: the rain turned rhythmic and faded to a low base beat, the drops themselves slowing to a stop, turning to strings of hanging, twinkling lights just overhead. The Falcon dissolved into dark crimson curtains that lined a large space that showed no doors or windows and turning the humid air into some sweet, perfumed scent. Music played, the same tune she’d been humming, from where Rey couldn’t figure out nor did she really care, but the damp of her clothes disappeared, the fabric itself seeming to change in feel, texture, and color. He dressed her in white silk, wrapped around her like some envisioned goddess complete with a gold cricket to hold back the bangs of her hair, the rest falling to tickle her bare shoulders.

He was her opposite, dressed head to toe in black complete with cloak but minus his usual gloves. The light tap of his boots and the shimmering reflection of the lights above were the only way she could tell where he ended and the polished ebony floor began. Like they were dancing across a sea of stars.

She stepped on his foot, the gold sandals around them causing little discomfort at the misstep and she looked down, trying to keep track of her feet. He just pulled her closer, blocking the view. “Don’t look at your feet, look at me. Where my feet go yours will eventually follow.”

His words were assuring and after a minute or two she seemed to get the hang of it. He even managed to get a spin out from her.

“I would not have pegged you for a dancer, Ben.” She teased, unable to hold back the teasing grin from her face.

“I’m the son of a princess senator general and was an apprentice to the Supreme Leader of the First Order. It’s only natural I had to learn to dance. My instructors told me it’s a lot like practicing steps in fighting: once you get the hang of it it becomes as natural a breathing.” He explained, spinning her once more. “And don’t call me Ben.”

“I think fighting might be a bit easier.” She admitted, holding onto his upper arm once she came back in from the spin.

He smiled down at her, “Yeah, I think so too.”

Rey's steps faltered once more, his smile catching her off guard. She’d never seen him smile like that, full of honest happiness instead of sick, distorted pleasure. “You’re smiling.”

The instant she mentioned it the smile faded, turning to his usual solemn look. She let go of his shoulder, reaching up to touch his face, trace the scar that slashed angrily across it. “You should smile more often, Ben.”

He shook his head, covering her hand with his own, their dancing coming to a stop. He leaned into her hand, kissing her palm. He closed his dark eyes for a long breath before opening them again, giving her that longing look so sad it wrenched at her heart strings every time. Shaking his head he whispered, “Only like this. Only for you.”

They wrapped themselves up in each other’s arms then, the song a distant memory in their minds as Rey buried her face in his high collared cape, trying to fight back the tears. They held each other like a lifeline for a long moment before pulling away. The scene faded, the music stopped and when their eyes opened again each was alone and cold: Ren’s hair still slightly damp from the rain, Rey’s tunic scented with the hint of sweet perfume. 

Neither slept well the rest of the night.


End file.
